


He's So Bad, But He Does It So Well.

by Redonkgirl



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Blood, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-26 22:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5022115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redonkgirl/pseuds/Redonkgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jerome was different when he was alone with Silas: the way he held himself, his voice, hell, his damn smile changed.</p>
<p>It sorta freaked Silas out.</p>
<p>But, it really turned him on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Eyeliner was invented by Satan: that much Silas was certain of.

“What is this shit _made out of?_ Sharpie?!” Silas yelled at his reflection, furiously rubbing his eye with a makeup remover, which was doing nothing more than smearing the black stuff more.

“Talking to yourself is sign of schizophrenia.”

Silas shot a look over his shoulder and sent a half way smile at the man who’d entered his trailer.

“Hey, Jerome.”

“You spent your entire life in the circus and you _still_ can’t get makeup off,” Jerome said, smiling slightly.

“You know I only had to start wearin’ this shit since last Wednesday, and tell your ma a fuck you very much for that,” Silas said, referring to how Lila had told his mother that Silas would look better performing with eyeliner.

When Jerome was quiet, Silas sent him a sideways glance and sighed.

“Who is it this time?”

“Your dad.”

Silas swallowed hard and returned to removing the eye makeup with far less vigor than before.

“You stayin’ the night?”

“Yeah,” Jerome said.

Silas was considered one of luckiest out of anyone else in the circus:

It’d worked itself out so that the youngest Grayson was the only one with a trailer to himself.

But, half the time he wasn’t alone because Jerome would sleep there because of Lila.

“You were good tonight.”

“Thanks, man,” Silas said, giving Jerome a crooked smile.

Silas didn’t mind Jerome crashing in his trailer, though, he was his friend.

“You changed your clothes. Too bad; I like the way your ass looks in tights.”

Well, kinda.

“Jerome…”

“What? Everyone else is in bed, Baby,” Jerome said, Silas swallowing hard.

Jerome was different when he was alone with Silas: the way he held himself, his voice, hell, his damn _smile_ changed.

It sorta freaked Silas out.

But, it _really_ turned him on.

“Depends: you gonna keep quiet this time?” Silas teased.

“ _I’m_ not the loud one. _‘Oh, Jerome. Harder, Jerome. Fuck me, Jerome,’_ ” Jerome said in a high pitched voice.

“I don’t sound like that, you _ass_!” Silas said, hopping up to tackle Jerome, only for the red head to trip him, Silas landing face first on the bed.

“Perfect,” Jerome purred, a hand on the small of Silas’s back as he studied his ass “Just the way I like you.”

.

Silas had never liked Lila Valeska.

It wasn’t because she slept around, even though she fucked his (married) dad every other week.

It was because of how she hurt Jerome.

Although, maybe he should thank her, who knows how long it would’ve taken for the two of them to get where they were without her abuse.

_._

_Silas never hung around Jerome; Jerome was too young for Silas to be playing with him: Jerome’s birthday was today and he was only nine, Silas had been twelve for two whole months._

_Silas had saved up enough allowance to buy himself a chocolate bar, and was feeling rather proud of himself as he headed back to his parent’s trailer._

_But…_

_There was Jerome, sitting outside his ma’s trailer, crying quietly while sporting a ton of bruises._

_Before Silas could really think about it, he shoved the candy into Jerome’s surprised hands and muttered a “Happy Birthday,” before he ran off._

.

So, yeah, Lila’s fault.

But, Silas was never anything other than polite to that bitch: high road and not wanting to get slapped around by his dad.

“Silas, Jerome went into town to get groceries; can you help me with this box?”

Silas sent his dad a pained look, only to be met with a glare.

“Sure think, Ms. Valeska.”

Silas hefted up the box and followed Lila into her trailer.

“I always liked how you said that,” Lila said.

“Said what?” Silas asked, frowning.

“Ms. Valeska. Not Miss Valeska or Mrs. Valeska. Your daddy raised you good,” Lila said, lighting up a cigarette.

“Uh, yeah. Where’d you want this?”

“On that table,” Lila said “… How old are you now, Silas?”

“Twenty-One.”

“You can drink,” Lila observed, making Silas want to roll his eyes.

“Yeah, but, never really took to it,” Silas said, shrugging “Is that all?”

“You’re close with my boy, aren’t you?”

_Fuck!_

“Yeah, we’re friends,” Silas said, surprisingly evenly for how hard his heart was beating.

“Too bad he weren’t born a girl,” Lila said “You two could’ve had somethin’.”

_FUCK!_

“No offense, Ms. Valeska, but Jerome is always gonna be a jackass, it got nothn’ to do with gender.”

Lila laughed boisterously, Silas smiling as he felt some relief: she didn’t seem to know.

“You grew up good, Silas.”

And that’s when Silas realized something was going on.

Lila placed a hand on his bicep.

“Uh, thanks, Ms. Valeska.”

“Lila,” She corrected.

This isn’t good.

“Um, okay, I’m gonna go: I gotta help dad set up,” Silas said, retracting from Lila’s hand and heading towards the door.

“I’m sure Al can spare you for a little while,” Lila said, grabbing Silas’s arm “C’mon, let me get you a drink. Maybe you’ll take to it this time.”

Silas straightened up slightly and turned towards Lila.

“I’d rather not, Ms. Valeska.”

And he turned to leave again, hoping she’d just leave him alone.

She caught his arm again, this time, though; she spun him around and slapped him hard across the face, her ring cutting into his cheek.

“Just you _wait_ ‘til your daddy comes over here! He’s gonna whup your ass for bein’ so damn disrespectful to me!”

Silas was fairly certain she said more, but he’d run out of her trailer before he heard anymore.

.

Silas had wanted to forget this whole thing, he really did, but Jerome saw the cut and Jerome had been on the receiving end of enough of Lila’s slaps that he could tell that it was from her.

When Silas told him, Jerome went quiet, but his eyes blazed.

“… Jerome?” Silas asked as Jerome grabbed his coat.

“That bitch crossed a line,” Jerome hissed, his voice low and gravelly as he went to the door of the trailer.

“Jerome,” Silas repeated, catching his arm.

Jerome spun towards him with a glare that made Silas shrink slightly and drop his eyes.

Silas then felt Jerome stroke a hand on his hair and over his cheek where the cut was before getting to Silas’s chin and jerking his head up to look at him, making Silas squeak slightly.

“She won’t hurt you again.”

Something about the finality of his statement made Silas’s stomach twist into knots.

“Don’t do anything dumb.”

“That’s what I got you for,” Jerome said, grinning and sending a chill down Silas’s spine before he pulled Silas down for a kiss.

.

Lee attended to a young man’s bruise, the man seemingly extremely put out by tonight’s events.

Her eyes caught on something else, though: a cut on his cheek, probably about a day old.

“What happened there?”

“Imma trapeze artist: I get cut sometimes,” He said, a little _too_ blasé before he turned towards the man and woman sitting near to him “I swear to god, if you two don’t shut up, I’ll make _sure_ you both got concussions.”

“What’s the problem, anyhow?” Lee asked.

“Don’t start them off,” The man she was attending to groaned.

“The Graysons are a bunch of arrogant buttheads is the problem,” One of clowns, Mary, said.

“The Lloyds are feckless drunkards, is more like it,” One of the Graysons, John, retorted.

“Nobody cares who stole whose horse, will ya’ll shut the fuck up?” The young man asked.

“You’re such a bitch when you don’t see your stupid boyfriend all day,” John grumbled.

“Jerome’s just my friend: I’m sorry that you don’t have any of those, so you don’t understand,” The young man said, Lee frowning slightly “And I’m a bitch when I get hit in the head with a bottle for no fucking reason.”

“There was a reason: it’s because Mary’s uncle is an idiot,” John said.

“You know damn well it must be Lila’s fault,” Mary replied, causing John and Silas to close off.

Lila?

.

Working with Jim had been amazing, seeing how everything was done and figuring out the killer had given her such a rush.

But, _seeing_ the killer…

That boy was insane, no doubt about it.

But… Something was bothering Lee… Like she missed something.

Then, it occurred to her.

.

“Jim!”

Jim turned around and smiled at his girlfriend before seeing her worried appearance.

“What is it?”

“He was lying,” Lee said.

“Who was lying?” Jim asked.

“Jerome: he was lying about why he killed his mother.”

“What do you mean?” Jim asked, frowning.

“He didn’t kill her because of her sexuality or because of her overbearingness.”

“Then why?” Jim asked.

.  
Jim knocked on the door of a trailer, the door swinging open and Lee’s stomach becoming a knot.

His face was red and blotchy.

He’d been crying.

“You’re Silas Grayson, right?” Jim asked.

“Yeah?” He asked, sniffling slightly.

“Can we ask you a few questions?”

He let them in.

“Whatdaya wanna know?” Silas asked quietly.

“The whole story… I get the feeling we don’t know that,” Lee said.

Silas took a deep breath before nodding.

.

“You knew he killed Lila,” Jim said.

“I wasn’t certain,” Silas protested, still looking at his feet: he hadn’t looked them in the eye the entire time he told them the story “… I’m going to jail for this, aren’t I?”

“You withheld information from a police officer about a murder,” Jim said, Silas giving a shaky sigh “But… I’m willing to not tell anyone about this if you tell _me_ something.”

“What?”

“You knew he wasn’t _right_ in the head. You knew he killed his mother. And you knew you were the reason why.”

“What’s your question?” Silas asked, still looking down.

“Why’d you protect him? He didn’t deserve your protection.”

Silas snorted and shook his head, before stopping and giving Jim a pained look.

“Because I love him.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Valeska!”

Jerome lifted his head and looked expectantly at the guard.

“Mail.”

Barbara raised an eyebrow as Jerome plucked the letter out of the guard’s hands, but didn’t sit back down with the group. Instead, he wandered off, back towards his cell.

“What was that about?” Barbara asked Sions, whom she was slumped against.

“Jerome gets letters from his boyfriend,” Sions replied calmly, not even looking up from his paper.

Barbara sat up.

“His _boyfriend?”_

“We don’t make jokes about it,” Dobkins informed her.

“Not after what Jerome did to the guy who tried to take one of his letters,” Greenwood muttered.

“What happened?” Barbara asked, Sions looking over at her.

“Let’s put it this way: the last time someone made _fun_ of Jerome about it, he got his head bashed into a table a few times. Make your own assumptions about what happened to the man who physically tried to take a letter out of Jerome’s hands.”

.

_Love, Silas._

Jerome pouted slightly: either he needed to get out of this hellhole or Silas needed to snap and kill someone.

He needed Silas.

These other idiots didn’t get him; they were too dumb, too crazy, or too wrapped in themselves to _understand_.

Silas had understood.

Ever since they were _kids_ Silas understood.

_“You’re gonna be in the spotlight one day, Jerome, I just know it.”_

Jerome was getting closer to it: the spotlight, the attention, the fame.

But, he didn’t want it when the front row was missing his favorite audience member.

.

Jerome Valeska.

Arnold Dobkins.

Aaron Helzinger.

Robert Greenwood.

Richard Sions.

And…

Barbara Kean.

Jim felt a need to focus everything on finding Barbara, but…

He had a lead that had nothing to do with her.

.

Haly’s Circus was a bust.

Ringmaster said that Silas had been gone for a few months.

But, Jim did have a lucky break: someone came across the name Silas Grayson on a work form for some company as a loader.

.

“Grayson hasn’t been around for a month.”

“And you didn’t file a missing persons report?” Jim asked, the overseer snorting.

“Listen, these men are drifters, Grayson ain’t any different.”

As Jim left the warehouse, he found himself wondering: did Silas break them out?

.

This was an interesting turn of events.

Jerome grinned ear to ear once the straps were undone.

“Jerome!” Theo said perkily “Come with me.”

Jerome followed beside Galavan as he led him down the hallways.

“You and I both know you’re far smarter than any of the others,” Theo began, Jerome liking him immediately “The others are brutes. You are an intellect.”

“I agree entirely,” Jerome replied.

“Good. And as a sign of amity, I took the liberty of getting you a gift.”

Theo stopped outside the last door on the left and turned to Jerome, pulling out a key and dropping it into Jerome’s hand.

“All yours.”

Then, Theo turned on his heel and walked away.

Jerome reached forward and unlocked the door, swinging it open.

“Jerome?”

.

He’d considered going back to Gotham, but, it’s not like he’d be able to see Jerome.

And Gotham was _really_ seedy.

So, he took a job a few cities over.

It wasn’t bad, honestly.

What was bad was when a bag of shoved over his head and he was knocked out.

He woke up in a lavish room.

“Good to see you’re up,” A man said “My name is Theo Galavan and this is my sister Tabitha.”

Silas glared suspiciously at him as he sat up.

“Where am I?”

“My home. My guest room to be specific.”

“Why am I here?” Silas asked.

“You’re my insurance, Silas.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Silas grumbled.

Theo smirked.

“All in good time.”

.

“Silas.”

Jerome quickly shut the door behind him, before he pulled Silas into his arms.

“Jerome, how-.”

Jerome silenced him with a searing kiss, the red head smirking into when Silas seemed to melt into him.

 That was Jerome’s second favorite thing about Silas in bed: he became malleable.

Outside the bedroom, Silas was stubborn, but when it came to Jerome: he would let Jerome situate him any way he wanted.

Jerome’s _favorite_ thing was that, if he played his cards right, he could get Silas to laugh during sex.

Jerome shoved Silas backward, the older man landing on the bed with a surprised gasp.

“Did ya miss me, Baby?” Jerome asked, grinning as he advanced on Silas, who propped himself up on his elbows and swallowed hard at the predatory glint in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Silas said breathlessly.

Jerome paused and gave Silas a look.

“Be polite.”

“Yes, Jerome.”

“Did ya _cry?”_ Jerome said with a mocking tone.

“Yes, Jerome.”

“Did ya let anyone else screw you while I was gone?”

“ _Never_!” Silas said, sitting up ramrod straight.

“I’ll let that one slide,” Jerome said “But, remember your manners.”

“Yes, Jerome.”

Jerome grinned.

“Take your clothes off.”

Silas quickly tugged off his t-shirt and was beginning to remove his pants when he noticed.

Jerome’s smile had fallen away.

When Jerome spoke, his voice wasn’t like it was before: it was low and gravelly.

The voice he’d used before he killed his mother.

“Who did that to you?”

Silas sighed, remembering what had tripped Jerome up.

The many scars traversing his chest.

“Dad found out you and me were…” Silas gave him a look “We kept it a secret for a reason, remember?”

Jerome was suspiciously quiet as he studied the marks on Silas’s chest.

“Once I’m done with Gotham, I’m gonna burn the circus to the ground… And your dad…” Jerome chuckled.

“Jerome,” Silas said, Jerome’s eyes snapping up to his “As much as I enjoy hearing you talk about torturing my dad, you’re kinda leavin’ me hangin’ here.”

After a moment, Jerome seemed to snap back and he grinned.

“Get the rest of that shit off and flip over.”

.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

Jerome nuzzled Silas’s hair slightly as Silas pushed up against him more.

“Especially since I’ve been locked up in this room for a week,” Silas grumbled before looking up at Jerome “I can leave now, right?”

“I want you to stay in here.”

“What?!” Silas said, sitting up “Why?”

“I ain’t the only one they broke out of Arkham,” Jerome said, his voice lowering in pitch again “And I don’t want them anywhere near you.”

Silas pouted before turning on his side, away from Jerome, who rolled his eyes.

“Apart for months and then thirty-five minutes after reuniting you’re already being a bitch,” Jerome said.

“Apart for months and then thirty-five minutes after reuniting you’re already being an asshat,” Silas mumbled back, making Jerome grin.

“If you stop being bitchy and stay in this room, I’ll suck you off.”

“A blowjob is not enough this time,” Silas grumbled.

“And I’ll let you top for once.”

Silas was quiet for a moment, humming to himself before speaking.

“Start bringing me stuff to do.”

“Deal.”

.

 A few hours later, there was a knock on the door.

“Jerome, my brother wants to speak with you.”

“Be there in a minute,” Jerome called back, sighing as he slipped out of Silas’s arms, pressing a kiss to the sleeping brunet’s forehead before pulling on his clothes and leaving a note.

This would become a routine.

Jerome would do whatever Theo asked him and the rest to do, be it dropping people off of buildings or just listening him explain his plan (or fight for dominance with Greenwood), then, once he was able to get away, he’d slip back to where Silas was waiting.

Nobody really noticed except for Theo, Tabitha, and Barbara.

Two of which _knew_ what he was doing.

And the other was _very_ curious.

.

“You’re making me jealous,” Tabitha teased.

“C’mon, I just want to know where Jerome goes,” Barbara said in a wheedling voice.

Tabitha bit her lip in a way that informed Barbara that she wasn’t supposed to tell.

“He goes into the west most part of the house. The last door on the left.”

“That’s all?” Barbara asked, Tabitha checking to see if Theo was near before pulling out a key and pressing it into Barbara’s hand.

“Don’t tell anyone.”

.

She waited until Jerome and the others went to blow up some cheerleaders.

Barbara found the room that Tabitha was referring too, weighing her options before unlocking it and entering.

Her eyes were immediately attracted to the bed, where there was definite movement.

Slowly, Barbara approached the bed before stopping and looking at its occupant.

A boy.

No, no, now that Barbara looked closer, he was probably early twenties; a man.

A man with very pretty features and dark curling hair that fell in his face as he slept.

The marks covering him stood out against his pale skin and for a second, Barbara thought that he was Jerome’s punching bag, but, she quickly realized that they were _love bites_.

So, _this_ was Jerome’s boyfriend.

He was lean but definitely had some muscles.

Probably worked at the circus Jerome had lived at: trapeze artist, maybe?

He shifted and rolled over onto his back, a few pieces of hair falling over his eyes.

Barbara reached forward and slowly pushed them over, continuing to stroke his hair for a moment and smiling.

“He’s very handsome,” She said aloud.

“Get out.”

Barbara smirked and turned on her heel, facing a seething Jerome.

“What’s his name?” She asked, walking towards him slowly.

Jerome reached forward and grabbed Barbara’s arm, pulling her outside the room and shutting the door (quietly, Barbara noted) before locking it.

“Give me the key,” He demanded, Barbara rolling her eyes and dropping it into Jerome’s hand.

“I don’t know what the big deal-.”

Jerome slammed Barbara against the wall, a knife against her cheek.

“If you mention this to anyone or if you try to go in there again, you’re face gets remodeled,” Jerome voice then turned mocking “Do you think Tabby would still like you if I cut off your lips? And ears. And nose. And poke out your eyes.”

“You’re protecting him,” Barbara said, hissing as the knife pressed in slightly harder “… Because he’s _normal_.”

“He’s not normal,” Jerome hissed, letting go of Barbara.

“He’s not like us,” Barbara countered “… What makes him so special?”

“Oh, are we gonna talk about our feelings now? Have a group session?”

“I bet I can guess,” Barbara said “He feeds your ego.”

Jerome rolled his eyes and went to unlock the door.

“Oh, come on, just tell me,” Barbara said, Jerome stilling, the door unlocked but unopened.

“… He was nice to me.”

Jerome then entered the room, shutting the door on Barbara.

.

Silas usually didn’t ask about what Jerome did when he was gone, but…

“What happened?!” Silas demanded, hopping up and looking at the blood covering his boyfriend’s face.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” Jerome said, waving his hand.

“But, you’re bleeding! You’re bleeding and in a police uniform… Why are you in…? … Know what? Don’t wanna know,” Silas said, Jerome cackling gleefully

“This has gotta be doing _something_ for you: look at me!” Jerome said.

“The blood ruins it.”

Jerome grinned and started advancing on Silas, who took a few steps back before Jerome pounced on him; knocking him back on the bed and kissing him.

“Ugh!” Silas said, tasting blood.

But, Jerome was motionless: studying him.

“What?” Silas asked.

Jerome reached up and wiped blood off with his hand.

Before smearing it across Silas’s face.

“Jerome, what the hell?! That’s _disgusting!”_

“Sorry, baby, but you look _good_.”

“I look good covered in your blood?!” Silas yelled.

“I don’t think it has to be _mine_ , necessarily.”

“Jerome!”

.

“How do I look? TV ready?”

Silas grinned as Jerome twirled, wearing a magician’s suit.

“I’m sure that everyone will be like me: watch avidly.”

Jerome then demonstrated the handkerchief trick and after the flower “appeared,” Silas clapped, blushing slightly as Jerome gave the flower to him.

“You sure you don’t have time for one more round before you go?” Silas asked.

“Jesus, kid, you’re going to kill me,” Jerome teased.

“I’m three years older than you,” Silas protested “You’re the kid.”

“I think you forfeit those three years by being on the receiving end.”

Silas picked up his pillow and chucked it Jerome, who caught it and cackled loudly.

“You seemed to like being bottom last time,” Silas pointed out.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jerome replied, Silas smirking and hopping up to pull Jerome close.

“I can jog your memory.”

Silas leaned down and kissed Jerome, the red head wrapping his arms around Silas’s neck.

Right as Silas reached down and started playing with the top of Jerome’s pants; there was a knock at the door.

“Get out here, Jerome; you need to put a fake beard on.”

They broke the kiss and Jerome sighed.

“Half a minute!” He yelled before turning back to Silas “Give me a rain check on this, Grayson.”

“No problem… be careful, J.”

“You know me,” Jerome said.

“I do,” Silas replied, deadpanned, making Jerome snort and kiss Silas again.

Jerome then went to leave.

“See ya later, Kiddo.”

“Not a kid.”

“See ya later, Mano.”

Jerome grinned and left the room to the sound of Silas’s laughter.

.

Galavan was an idiot.

At first, he’d hoped the Galavan would be able to see, but, he was too wrapped up in himself to notice.

The coroner took the cash he offered before leaving, and then Jerome spat out the blood capsules.

Idiots, idiots.

It was a simple trick, really.

And here he was.

First step was to get Silas, he did feel slightly guilty for making Silas think he died, but, hopefully he’d forgive him.

Second was to find a place to keep Silas: somewhere safe.

Third…

Jerome grinned:

Third was his favorite.

Galavan, Penguin, the mob…

Gotham deserved a better class of criminal.

And Jerome was going to give it to them.

Jerome was startled out of his fantasies by the sound of another gurney being rolled down the hallway, the red head hiding under the sheet on his gurney, hearing parts of the coroners’ conversation.

“Dropped off outside city hall, musta been before. Worst part? Died from choking on his own blood.”

“Poor bastard,” The other one said “Least he’s the last one that fucker’s gonna kill.”

The coroners left and Jerome sat up, feeling a sinking feeling in his stomach as he looked at the gurney next to his, the body covered by a sheet.

Jerome hopped off of the gurney and reached out, lifting the sheet.

.

.

.

_Do you wanna know how I got these scars?  My father was a drinker, and a fiend.  And one night, he goes off, crazier than usual.  Mommy gets the kitchen knife to defend herself.  He doesn't like that.  Not. One. Bit. So, me watching, he takes the knife to her, laughing while he does it.  He turns to me, and he says, "Why so serious?"  He comes at me with the knife. "Why so serious?!"  He sticks the blade in my mouth—"Let's put a smile on that face!"  And... Why so serious?_

He had dozens of them: little stories like that.

One about a wife.

One about a son.

One about prison.

One about the police.

None of them were the _truth,_ of course.

None of them told the story of how, after he’d clutched the body and cried, _really_ cried, for the first time that he could remember before he peppered his face with kisses and whispered apologies, he’d taken a coroner’s knife, and in front of a dirty mirror, gave _himself_ the scars.

Scars mirroring the ones that killed Silas.


End file.
